Love Works Wonders Part 30

But Lady Hampton saw his confusion, and in her own mind she wondered what there was between these two--why he should appear at the same time to love and to hate her--above all, why she should treat him with such sovereign indifference and contempt.

"It is not natural," she argued to herself; "young girls, as a rule, admire--nay, take an uncommon interest in soldiers. What reason can she have for such contemptuous indifference?"

How little she dreamed of the storm of rage--of pa.s.sion--of anger--of love--of fury, that warred in the captain's soul!

He was ten thousand pounds richer, but it was as a drop in the ocean to him. If it had been ten thousand per annum he might have been grateful.

Ten thousand pounds would discharge every debt he had in the world, and set him straight once more; he might even lead the life he had always meant to lead for two or three years, but then the money would be gone.

On the other hand, if that girl--that proud, willful, defiant girl--would but have married him, Darrell Court, with all its rich dependencies, would have been his. The thought almost maddened him.

How he loathed her as he rode away! But for her, all this grand inheritance would have been his. Instead of riding away, he would now be taking possession and be lord and master of all. These stables with the splendid stud of horses would be his--his the magnificent grounds and gardens--the thousand luxuries that made Darrell Court an earthly paradise. All these would have been his but for the obstinacy of one girl. Curses deep and burning rose to his lips; yet, for his punishment, he loved her with a love that mastered him in spite of his hate--that made him long to throw himself at her feet, while he could have slain her for the wrong he considered that she had done him.

Lady Hampton could not refrain from a few remarks on what she had witnessed.

"Has Captain Langton been so unfortunate as to offend you, Miss Darrell?" she asked of Pauline. "I thought your adieus were of the coldest."

"Did you? I never could see the use of expressing regret that is not really felt."

"Perhaps not; but it is strange that you should not feel some little regret at losing such a visitor."

To this remark Pauline deigned nothing save an extra look of weariness, which was not lost upon Lady Hampton.

"Pauline," said Miss Hastings, one morning, "I do not think you are compelled by the terms of Sir Oswald's will to reside at Darrell Court whether you like it or not. There could be no possible objection to your going away for a change."

The beautiful, restless face was turned to her.

"I could not leave Darrell Court even if I would," she returned.

"Why not? There is really nothing to detain you here."

"I am waiting," said the girl, her dark eyes lit by a fire that was not pleasant to see--"I am waiting here for my revenge."

"Oh, Pauline!" cried Miss Hastings, in real distress. "My dear child, you must forget such things. I do not like to hear such a word from your lips."

Pauline smiled as she looked at her governess, but there was something almost terrible in the calm smile.

"What do you think I am living here for--waiting here in patience for? I tell you, nothing but the vengeance I have promised myself--and it shall be mine!"

CHAPTER x.x.x.

WILL FATE AID PAULINE?

Six months had pa.s.sed since Sir Oswald's death, and his widow had already put away her cap and heavy weeds. Six months of retirement, she considered, were a very handsome acknowledgment of all her husband's love and kindness. She was in a state of serene and perfect self-content--everything had gone well with her. People had expressed their admiration of her devotion to his memory. She knew that in the eyes of the world she was esteemed faultless. And now it seemed to Lady Darrell that the time was come in which she might really enjoy herself, and reap the reward of her sacrifice.

The "armed neutrality" between Pauline and herself still continued. Each went her own way--their interests never clashed. Lady Darrell rather preferred that Pauline should remain at the Court. She had a vague kind of fear of her, a vague dread that made her feel safer where Pauline was, and where she could know something of her. Whole days would pa.s.s without their meeting; but, now that there was to be a little more gayety at Darrell Court, the two must expect to be brought into daily communication.

Lady Darrell was an amiable woman. It was true she had a small soul, capable of maintaining small ideas only. She would have liked to be what she called "comfortable" with Pauline--to live on sisterly terms with her--to spend long hours in discussing dress, ornaments, fashionable gossip--to feel that there was always some one at hand to listen to her and to amuse her. She, in her turn, would have been most generous. She would have made ample presents of dresses and jewels to such a friend; she would have studied her comfort and interests. But to expect or to hope for a companion of that kind in Pauline was as though some humble little wood-blossom could hope to train itself round a grand, stately, sad pa.s.sion-flower.

Lady Darrell's worldly knowledge and tact were almost perfect; yet they could never reveal to her the depths of a n.o.ble nature like Pauline's.

She could sooner have sounded the depths of the Atlantic than the grand deep of that young girl's heart and soul; they would always be dead letters to her--mysteries she could not solve. One morning the impulse was strong upon her to seek Pauline, to hold a friendly conversation with her as to half-mourning; but when she reached the door of the study her courage gave way, and she turned abruptly, feeling rather than knowing why the discussion of dress and mere personal appearance must prove distasteful to Miss Darrell.

Little by little Lady Darrell began to take her place in the grand world; she was too wise and wary to do it all at once. The degrees were almost imperceptible; even Lady Hampton, one of the most fastidious of critics, was obliged to own to herself that her niece's conduct was highly creditable. The gradations in Lady Darrell's spirits were as carefully regulated as the gradations of color in her dress; with deep lavender and black ribbons she was mildly sorrowful, the lighter grew the lavender the lighter grew her heart. On the first day she wore a silver gray brocade she laughed outright, and the sound of that laugh was the knell of all mourning.

Visitors began to arrive once more at Darrell Court, but Lady Darrell still exercised great restraint over herself. Her invitations were at first confined to matrons of mature age. "She did not feel equal to the society of gentlemen yet."

There was a grand chorus of admiration for the nice feeling Lady Darrell displayed. Then elderly gentlemen--husbands of the matrons--were admitted; and, after a time, "braw wooers began to appear at the hall,"

and then Lady Darrell's reign began in real earnest.

From these admiring matrons, enthusiastic gentlemen, ardent lovers, and flattering friends Pauline stood aloof. How she despised the whole of them was to be gathered only from her face; she never expressed it in words. She did not a.s.sociate with them, and they repaid her behavior by the most hearty dislike.

It was another proof of "dear Lady Darrell's sweet temper" that she could live in peace with this haughty, abrupt, willful girl. No one guessed that the bland, amiable, suave, graceful mistress of Darrell Court stood in awe of the girl who had been disinherited to make way for her.

"Pauline," said Miss Hastings, one day, "I want you to accustom yourself to the idea of leaving Darrell Court; for I do not think there is any doubt but that sooner or later Lady Darrell will marry again."

"I expect it," she returned. "Poor Sir Oswald! His home will go to strangers, his name be extinct. How little he foresaw this when he married!"

"Let it take place when it may, the Court can be no home for you then,"

continued Miss Hastings.

Pauline raised her hand with a warning gesture.

"Do not say another word, Miss Hastings; I cannot listen. Just as criminals were fastened to the rack, bound to the wheel, tied to the stake, I am bound here--awaiting my revenge!"

"Oh, Pauline, if you would but forego such strange speech! This longing for vengeance is in your heart like a deadly canker in a fair flower. It will end badly."

The beautiful face with its defiant light was turned toward her.

"Do not attempt to dissuade me," she said. "Your warning is useless, and I do not like to grieve you. I acquainted Lady Darrell with my determination before she married my uncle for his money. She persisted in doing it. Let her take the consequences--bear the penalty. If she had acted a true womanly part--if she had refused him, as she ought to have done--he would have had time for reflection, he would not have disinherited me in his anger, and Darrell Court would have descended to a Darrell, as it ought to have done."

"If you could but forget the past, Pauline!"

"I cannot--it is part of my life now. I saw two lives before me once--the one made n.o.ble, grand, and gracious by this inheritance, which I should have known so well how to hold; the other darkened by disappointment and shadowed by revenge. You know how some men wait for the fair fruition of a fair hope--for the dawn of success--for the sunshine of perfect prosperity; so do I wait for my revenge. We Darrells never do things by halves; we are not even moderate. My heart, my soul, my life--which might have been, I grant, filled with high impulses--are concentrated on revenge."

Though the words she spoke were so terrible, so bitter, there was no mean, vindictive, or malign expression on that beautiful face; rather was it bright with a strange light. Mistaken though the idea might be, Pauline evidently deemed herself one chosen to administer justice.

Miss Hastings looked at her.

"But, Pauline," she said, gravely, "who made you Lady Darrell's judge?"

"Myself," she replied. "Miss Hastings, you often speak of justice; let me ask, was this matter fair? My uncle was irritated against me because I would not marry a man I detested and loathed; in his anger he formed the project of marriage to punish me. He proposed to Elinor Rocheford, and, without any love for him, she agreed to marry him. I went to her, and warned her not to come between me and my rightful inheritance. I told her that if she did I would be revenged. She laughed at my threat, married my uncle, and so disinherited me. Now, was it fair that I should have nothing, she all--that I, a Darrell, should see the home of my race go to strangers? It is not just, and I mean to take justice into my hands."

"But, Pauline," opposed Miss Hastings, "if Lady Darrell had not accepted Sir Oswald, some one else would."

"Are such women common, then?" she demanded, pa.s.sionately. "I knew evil enough of your world, but I did not know this. This woman is sweet-voiced, her face is fair, her hair is golden, her hands are white and soft, her manners caressing and gentle; but you see her soul is sordid--it was not large enough to prevent her marrying an old man for his money. Something tells me that the vengeance I have promised myself is not far off."